That Dream You Chased
by regnum
Summary: [Sorato] She reached out and pulled the photo off the fridge. The magnet clattered to the floor. She stared at the picture for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Nothing’s going on, Yamato.” She looked him in the eye, “This is your son." (Updated -
1. Prologue: But, I Love Him

**The Dream that You Chased**

****

**Disclaimer:** Digimon is not mine. Neither is Gackt's song Kimi ga Oikaketa Yume. Just in case….Sorato warning. 

~*~

_~* I can still remember it now_

_There's no forever here_

_I kept gazing with sad eyes at the people who vanished *~_

~*~

**Prologue: But, I Love Him**

_Mistake. Mistake. Mistake. Mistake._  

The thought drummed into her head as she silently slipped out of the bed.  Stupid, foolish girl for letting her emotions run away with her. Why, _why_ had she come here? Why had she thought that he could help? She slipped her t-shirt over her head. The red jacket she had worn was still hanging on the back of his chair, still damp from the rain that had fallen outside. Quickly, silently, she pulled on her jeans, not bothering to find her socks, content with sliding her feet into her slightly damp sneakers. 

Her parents were getting a divorce, _that's_ why she had come here. To talk to someone who had gone through divorce before. For a shoulder to cry on, a friend who would understand. He had understood. His blue eyes sympathetic as she confessed all her fears, admitting every emotion running through her body. Her hand gripped the doorknob; she allowed herself one last glance at the figure fast asleep in the bed. _Well, maybe not **every** emotion…_

But he knew now. He had to, unless this all meant nothing to him. 

She didn't think she could handle it if it meant nothing to him. 

But still, it was a mistake. A big mistake. How could she have let this happen? Oh, she loved him. She'd loved him as long as she could remember. From the time they had been thrown together by forces outside of themselves. From the time fate – for lack of a better word – had transported them into a world outside their own. She had fallen in love with him then. Back when she hardly even knew the meaning of the word. 

She didn't know why she loved him. He was arrogant at the best of times, and downright rude and nasty when he wanted to be. It was those moments when he let the "cool" mask drop, the moments when it was just the two of them that she held closest to her heart. It was then that he was himself. He wasn't scared to be less than perfect with her. There was even the odd moment when he admitted his fear, his worries to her. She loved him even more then. Because he trusted her enough to tell her those fears and insecurities. He trusted her with his dreams.

That was why this was a mistake. He was so close, enticingly close to his goal, to the dream he had striven for. So close. He'd told her tonight, mere hours ago, that a recording contract was in the works. It wasn't just any recording contract either, it was a big one, the one that could propel him and the band into the world of superstardom. He was that close. 

Tonight could ruin everything. The harsh light in the corridor assaulted her eyes as she stepped out of the apartment, closing the door with a click behind her. Her hair, half damp and more than a little frizzy, fell in her eyes. Impatiently, she pushed it away. 

She didn't want to think about this anymore, all she wanted was to go home and get into bed. But she knew that even there she wouldn't be able to escape what had happened earlier. She wouldn't be able to escape his eyes. Liquid pools of blue, sympathetic, and later, asking her "are you sure you want this?". And she had smiled, a small, pathetic excuse for a smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. It was the answer to his question.

Later, when she had laid there, his arm around her waist she wondered why she had smiled. Why had she allowed that moment of weakness? Why had she thought that he could maybe, just maybe, love her the same way? 

She didn't want his sympathy. She wanted his love. 

It was too late now. She knew that she could never have his love. She could never allow herself that luxury because it meant that his dream would shatter. Fumbling, she searched her jeans pocket for a key; a relieved look crossed her face when she found it. Home. Stepping into the darkened hall she paused, listening for any sound that might indicate that her mother had waited up for her. 

Silence. 

She walked into the darkened kitchen, flipping the light she opened the medicine cabinet. Something to help her sleep, that was what she needed. Just something that would wipe away – if only for the moment – the feelings that overwhelmed her, the world that was crashing down around her. 

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

_But…I love him…_

~*~

**A/N:** I know, I have no right to start anything new. But this idea's been sitting in my head for awhile And I just wanted to see what would happen if I actually wrote it. Another multi-parter everyone. One that's NOT obscured by the mists of time. Maybe it's more mature, I dunno…. Comments & criticisms always welcome.  It'll hopefully make more sense soon. 


	2. Chapter One: The Real Reason

**The Dream that You Chased**

****

**A/N:** Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Thanks to the reviewers, you've made my day – hopefully this makes yours. 

~*~

_~* By the time we realised_

_That something was precious, it was too late_

_The feelings that pass us by are always too dazzling *~_

~*~

**Chapter One: The Real Reason**

_Tokyo__, three years later_

He'd never been to Tokyo before. Okay, maybe once. He'd been all of four years old – this was before his parents had split up. He didn't remember much of his time in Tokyo, just a whole lot of bright lights, people, a stuffy hotel room, his parents arguing and the baby crying. His first ever visit to Tokyo hadn't been the stuff of pleasant memories. 

Then again, that wasn't unexpected. 

Despite the low hanging grey clouds that congregated in the sky, he slipped his sunglasses on. He didn't want to be recognised today, and more often than not his blue eyes were a dead giveaway. To finish off his "disguise" he put on a baseball cap, flattening down his blonde hair. It needed a cut pretty badly; the long strands tickled the back of his neck.

The band had really taken off in the last few years. Their first single had been a success and the follow up album had gone platinum. He and his bandmates were now legitimate rock stars. Whatever that meant. 

He was now deep enough into the industry to realise that it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were people who couldn't wait to cut you down and even more people in the wings just waiting for a chance to steal your place. It was fickle; less about the music and more about the money. 

The hotel lobby was crowded. People checking in, people checking out and people who just…existed. For a moment he wondered if he'd been stupid to convince security that he could manage on his own for the day. He wrote the thought off as quickly as it appeared. People didn't know he was in town yet – the concert wasn't till next week – and anyway, even if they suspected he was in town they wouldn't think that he'd actually hit the town without security to cover him.

It was all about doing the unexpected. 

He fished around in his jacket pocket for his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. The automatic doors swished open for him and he stepped out onto the sidewalk. 

So, _this_ was Tokyo. 

It was still crowded, but he supposed it was a good kind of crowded. He inhaled on his cigarette. It was the kind of crowded that you could get lost in. Everyone was so caught up in doing their own thing that they wouldn't even notice him. It was the kind of crowded that he liked. 

Maybe he should have taken his agent's advice and moved here last year. In a place like this, even the most dedicated fangirl would have trouble finding him. 

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. Who was he kidding? He knew that even if he bought a place here, he'd never get around to packing all his things and moving out of Odaiba. Crazy as it was, he liked Odaiba. His friends were there, what family he had was there. 

He also knew that that wasn't the real reason why he'd never move. 

The real reason was personified in a woman. A woman he hadn't seen for three years. He studied the crowd with hidden blue eyes. The woman who had gone without a trace, taking his heart with her. He'd done everything within his power to find her; money became less of a problem once the album profits came in. But by then the trail – what trail there had been – had gone cold. 

So he remained in Odaiba hoping that maybe one day she would come back. That maybe she'd contact one of their friends, if not him. 

A nameless face in the crowd brushed past him in a hurry, knocking at his arm and wrenching his cigarette from his lips. He smiled, watching the glowing ember fall noiselessly to be crushed under hurrying feet. 

It was always good to go unnoticed.

~*~

It had gotten dark without him noticing. He took the sunglasses off, sliding them into his jacket pocket. At this time of night they'd only make him stand out in the crowd – after a day of relative obscurity that was the last thing he wanted to do. 

The lights of Tokyo were dazzling to be sure. Flickering billboards, huge television screens. He winced when his own face appeared; magnified several times so it would fill up the screen; fingers gripping the microphone, damp blonde hair hanging in his eyes. Cut to a shot of Rei, going wild on the guitar, his fingers moving so fast it was hard to see what he was doing. The screaming fans, pushing at the blockade while security tried to hold them back. Tetsuo, behind the drums, making faces at the camera, his crazily spiked hair tipped with a neon red. Finally, Kaoru, moving to the beat of the music even as he concentrated on playing the keyboard, he flashed a lopsided smile at the camera – the same smile that made all the girls go wild. 

 "The Teen-age Wolves in Concert", the advertisement screamed to Tokyo, following the words were the dates and venues where they would be playing. Then, "Limited seats! Book yours today!"

It was definitely cringe worthy material. Especially when he noticed the number of girls who had stopped to view the advertisement. From where he stood he could hear fragments of their conversation.

"Oooh! I bought my ticket today! I can't wait for the concert!"

"My friend won two tickets on a radio station contest!"

"Did you see the way Kaoru looked? He's so hot!"

"What? Kaoru? No way, Yamato's way hotter than he is!"

Now was definitely time to be leaving. He felt naked without his sunglasses. His blonde hair could at least be explained away, there were plenty of people who bleached their hair these days. But blue eyes? They were harder to explain away. 

Rei had even gone so far as to suggest that he get coloured contacts. It wasn't such a bad idea, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of having to put something in his eye. Besides, the sunglasses worked during the day, and when it was dark it was harder for someone to get a good look at his eyes anyway. It just limited the number of places he could be without security at night. 

He ducked his head and kept walking, past the schoolgirls, past the brightly lit shops. He had no destination in mind, but he definitely didn't want to go back to the hotel just yet. The lone wolf in him was enjoying the solitude; he didn't get enough of it lately. 

He lit another cigarette. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He didn't remember when he'd started smoking. Probably around the time she'd left Odaiba. It seemed like everything came back to her. What had started out as a stress relief was now an addiction. He dropped the glowing butt, grinding it beneath his shoe. They liked it when rock stars had a vice. Nothing too bad, but something that made them human. 

It was then that he paused and took stock of his surroundings. 

A man in a darkened corner, his shoulders hunched low. He rocked back and forth slightly, his trench coat shifting, revealing a glimpse of metal. Neon signs flickering weakly, casting a garish light on the street. Two men, obviously drunk, slumped against a shop front. A tall, thin young woman, dressed in nothing more than a leather mini-skirt, fishnet stockings, a short, red tube top and a denim jacket. She smiled seductively at the passers-by. 

Signs advertising geishas. Masseurs. Strip clubs. 

He was in Tokyo's red light district.

~*~

**A/N:** That wasn't confusing, was it? I promise, Sora will come into the story pretty soon. I just needed a chance to establish Yama's character and how (semi?) cynical he is right now etc. So again, please comment, it will be very much welcome. I'm quite surprised I got this out so fast. Go me. So maybe I should go study for my exam tomorrow now….

© Abi

2003-06-25


	3. Chapter Two: Alone

**The Dream that You Chased**

****

**A/N:** Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Thanks to the reviewers, you've made my day – hopefully this makes yours. 

~*~

_~* I saw a nostalgic dream_

_At that time we became close_

_Everyone understood the overflowing loneliness*~_

~*~

****

**Chapter Two: Alone**

The street again. Every night it was the same street, the same neon signs flickering sporadically, the same girls working the same area. Nothing changed. It was like a tape stuck at a particular part. It just looped back to where it had started from. Even the faces of the men were the same. All blurring together so she couldn't tell them apart anymore. Identical eager eyes, lustful smiles and groping hands. 

She had lost hope. She had lost the ability to believe that things could change, that life could be different. 

Her reflection stared back at her from the shop window across the street. A short, black skirt, the sliver gleam of a belt buckle. Knee high boots encasing slim legs and a top that was more about the ties that held it on than the material. 

She didn't know the girl in the reflection. That girl with the dead lifeless eyes. Yet that girl was her, and this was her life. Days spent waiting tables and nights spent working the streets. Barely enough time to sleep in-between shifts, let alone to spend time with her son. Her son was the only good thing in her life. He was only three and yet he understood when she had to leave him alone at home. He knew she had to work to feed the both of them. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, smiling coyly at the men who walked past. It was almost second nature to her. But it wasn't her. It was her job. At home she was a mother; out here she was nothing more than another prostitute working the streets. Trying the make a living the only way she could. 

It hadn't always been like this. She'd come to Tokyo as a last resort, she'd taken the cowards way out and run away from her problems. Two months pregnant and all the money she had in the world in her pocket. Her entire life's savings. It hadn't been worth much out here. Soon after she had given birth her money had run out and the money she made waiting tables just wasn't enough for her and her baby. It had been hard enough just keeping a roof over their heads. 

Working the streets was good money. She couldn't deny that. It stripped her of her dignity, but it was good money. It was enough to support her and Yui, to make sure that they were fed, clothed and housed. But it wasn't enough to get her out of Tokyo.  

She wanted to get out of Tokyo. She wanted to get out of Tokyo so badly she could taste it. 

Of course, she didn't know where she would go if she could get out of Tokyo, but that didn't matter. She was sick of it here. Sick of the lights, the crush of people, the impersonality of the city. She'd love to go back to Odaiba. To go back home where her friends were, where her family was – but she couldn't. Odaiba wasn't even an option. 

It would never be an option.

~*~

_Crap_. Management was _not going to like this. He could see the magazine headlines already: ISHIDA YAMATO SEEN IN TOKYO'S RED LIGHT DISTRICT. This was not good. If he was seen the reporters would have a field day. PR was going to love him after this. _

He thought of Eri, their public relations person. She was strictly business, with her glasses and suits. She'd climbed the ranks in an occupation that didn't accept women – especially in Japan. She was going to kill him if this hit the press. It didn't matter that he had gotten lost. The press wouldn't see that. They'd just see him, young, famous, successful…in a red light district. 

When you were successful they took every opportunity to beat you down. 

He'd learnt early on in his career that the press was a double edged sword. They could elevate you to new heights and tear you down in the same step – all under the cover of neutrality. 

He pulled the bill of his cap down lower. There was no way he wanted to be recognised here. 

"Hey mister, you want something to pick you up?" 

A kid, barely into his teens. Greasy, black hair hung in his red-rimmed eyes. His shirt was a grimy, grey colour, the printing so faded that it was impossible to read what was written on it. He smelt too. A rank, unwashed smell. Yamato wrinkled his nose. 

"I got lots of stuff, mister. Anything you want. Real cheap too!" 

Reality is harsh. Yamato, tugged at the bill of his cap again – more a nervous reaction than anything. "How old are you, kid?" 

"Fourteen"

Fourteen. At fourteen he'd been getting into trouble to be sure, but he hadn't been out on the streets selling drugs. Life had never gotten that bad. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of notes. "Here," he pushed the wadded up bundle into the kid's hand.

"What you want for this, mister?" 

He pushed the hat back, "Get yourself something to eat. I don't want anything you're selling." 

The boy looked at him like he was crazy. Then he shrugged. "Okay, man. Whatever you say." 

~*~

"Hey there."

She looked up, a slight smile on her lips. "Hi, can I help you?" 

In her three years on the streets she'd learnt a lot. Most men didn't like it if you came on too strongly. You got the odd few that did, but most preferred their girls shy, innocent. 

She'd learnt to be shy and innocent in three years. 

His eyes ran the length of her body quickly. "I think you can help me," he replied, a grin on his face, "What say we go back to my place, hm?" 

She giggled – yes, she'd also learnt to giggle – and leaned forward, running a finger across his chest, "Sure thing, but only if you pay in cash." 

The smile plastered on her face was fake, but she doubted that he could see that. No one could. There was no one in Tokyo who knew her well enough to know she was miserable. She'd thought of ending it all, even now the thought still crossed her mind. The only thing that stopped her was Yui, her baby boy. If she ended her life, there was no one to look after him. There wouldn't be anyone who cared about a single baby.

Even if he did have blue eyes like his daddy. 

He grabbed her wrist, holding it tight enough to hurt and pulling her to him. "Does it really matter if I pay?" His breath reeked of alcohol.

_Crap. _

~*~

Nothing like being crazy. Obviously his gift to the boy had made him look crazy. Again, if the press got wind of this he'd be screwed. Never mind that the truth was that he was helping a kid out. It _looked_ like he was buying drugs. So that was what it was.

Inside, he knew that the money would most probably go towards drugs or alcohol, but he hoped that the kid would go buy food. He hoped that the kid would be smart enough to know that this was a road to nowhere. Ten years from now he'd still be pushing drugs. And most likely getting busted for it too. 

Yamato lit another cigarette. Compared to this, the dog-eat-dog musician's world that he inhabited didn't look all that bad. 

A scream. 

Yelling, cursing. 

Cars rushing past. 

A little ways down, a young woman who seemed as though she was in trouble.

He wondered if he should just ignore it. He was already in trouble as it was. Then again, he was in the type of trouble that could be fixed with a wave of his PR person's wand. That young woman wasn't. He was also the type of person that saved the damsel in distress. He had to do the right thing. 

"Hey! HEY!" He grabbed at the guy's hand, "How about you leave her alone, huh?" 

"What's it to you, pretty boy?" 

Yamato hated the pretty boy cracks. He got plenty of them in high school, mostly from people he didn't know. That's why he'd picked up judo in his final year at school. It got tiring sometimes, all the people who thought he was wimp just because of the way he looked. "Look, buddy, I don't want to have to hurt you. Why don't you just let the lady go?" 

The man was an idiot and drunk. He lunged at Yamato who sidestepped easily and drove and elbow into his back. Hard. 

His opponent went crashing to the ground.

"You okay, miss?" 

His blue eyes met her auburn ones and widened slightly, "Sora?" 

~*~

**A/N:** How evil am I? This one wrote itself, really. I've just been busy with uni starting again and whatnot. So yeah. Thanks again to the reviewers – comments are always welcome (as is criticism). So R&R and maybe I'll get one the next one out faster. Peace.

© Abi

2003-07-24


	4. Chapter Three: Now That I've Found You

**The Dream that You Chased**

****

**A/N:** Disclaimer is in the first chapter. Thanks to those who reviewed. I've been told I need to put an AU label on this. So…this is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, people! – I'm trying to keep the characters in character, but maybe more mature as people change over time. (Also, I'm sorry that I didn't keep Odaiba as a suburb of Tokyo…really, if I had known…) Also, who knows what you'll do if you're desperate, right? And Sora was desperate. Hopefully this helps clears up that misunderstanding/any other questions anyone might have. Thank you.

~*~

_~* We told each other about countless dreams at that time_

_We can't go back, anymore, but still…*~_

~*~

**Chapter Three: Now That I Found You**

"Sora?" 

They were the same blue eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past three years. The same blue eyes her son had. The blue eyes she had seen every time she remembered that night. 

That night. How many times had she relieved that night in her mind? How many times had she wished for things to be different? She'd wished so often, prayed so hard – for another chance to make everything right, for Yui to know his father, for a chance to go home. She'd wished so often that she'd lost hope. She'd also prayed to see him one more time. 

She didn't think that it would hurt like this. 

She'd seen him a number of times. It wasn't particularly hard to see him – not when you were as famous as Ishida Yamato was. There were posters, CDs, television and magazine interviews. No, it was harder to avoid him. But all that had been different. The man on the screen hadn't been Yamato. It was just an image, not the Yamato she had known. 

But now here he was. Standing right in front of her. If she reached out she could touch him. It was surreal. 

"Sora?" She snapped back to reality, looking into those blue eyes she wanted to pinch herself to see if this really was real.

"I-" There were no words, nothing that could describe this moment, the emotions rushing through her, "Yamato…" A single tear slipped down her face. _Stupid, weak tears! She cursed herself for appearing so helpless. "Th-thank you." _

He reached up and brushed the tears away, causing more to fall. 

There were so many questions that he wanted to ask, all of them crowding on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to ask her what she was doing here and why. Why had she run away? None of that seemed important now though, all he wanted to do was take her away from here. To hold her close to him and never let go. He couldn't lose her again. 

She pulled away from his hand, "Thank you." Her voice was stronger now; she was getting her emotions under control.

"Anytime," he whispered softly. 

An awkward silence descended on the pair, broken only by raucous laughter coming from the bar down the road. He studied her, reddish-gold hair – longer now – hanging over her face. She was looking at the ground like it was the most interesting thing on earth. 

"Sora…"  
  


She looked up at him with kohl ringed eyes, reaching up a hand to push the hair out of her face.

"Wha-what are you doing here?"

A shrug, she forced a smile, "Well, what does it look like? I'm working." 

_Working_. There was only one occupation for a woman on this street. He closed his eyes, trying to control the tidal wave of emotions – hurt, disbelief, but most of all, anger – that washed over him. He clenched his fists, wanting to him something, but knowing nothing would suffice. His nails dug into the palm of his hands. 

"Why? Why would you need to-"

She cut him off before he could get any further, "Why? Why else?" Sora bit back a bitter laugh, "Money, of course. But you wouldn't have to worry about that, would you? You just get up on stage and sing. The money comes rolling in. Some of us have to take desperate means to survive, Ishida!" 

He hadn't expected the anger. The bitterness and the hurt that lay under it all. He could tell she was holding her tears back, and doing a pretty good job of it as well. Yamato reached for her hand, "Can we go somewhere? Just to talk. I-" he paused, trying to find the right words, "It's been so long, Sora." 

Those eyes again, she couldn't say no to those eyes. But she had to work, if she didn't, there'd be no money, no food for her son, for her. "I-" She was about to say no, she _wanted_ to say no, but she'd dreamed about him for so long. She'd wanted to see him every day of the past three years, and now here he was, standing in front of her, fingers clasping her wrist gently. Maybe this was the closure she'd prayed for. "Just for a little while." 

"Great," he smiled, unable to hide his happiness, "Where can we go?" 

~*~

She took him to her place. There was nowhere else to go, they couldn't exactly go out. He was Ishida Yamato and she – well, she was dressed for her job. He couldn't exactly take her back to his hotel. And quite frankly, he didn't want to. There were too many explanations involved; he wanted her to himself, if only for a little while.

"I'm warning you, it's nothing much." 

Yamato stumbled over a bottle in the darkened hallway. It smelled damp and he could see the paint peeling off the walls under the light of the single bulb. It was looking pretty bad from where he stood; he didn't know how she managed to live in such a squalid place. But as long as she was there, he'd follow. He said nothing, just flashed her a quick smile.

The apartment was tidy at least. The paint here was peeling too and the couch was a little threadbare, but overall it wasn't too bad. "There's a pair of guest slippers over there," she called over her shoulder, "Make yourself at home. I'm just going to – uh…put on some comfortable clothes." 

"Okay," he replied softly, not even sure if she could hear him. 

He took his shoes on and slipped his sock-encased feet into the slippers. They had a flower pattern on them and he grimaced slightly but decided it was probably better not to complain. The normalcy of the action was comforting to him. She'd been so quiet on the walk over here, it was so unlike her. He wasn't sure if she was happy or angry to see him. 

The whole situation was so surreal. All of a sudden, the girl who had been on his mind almost constantly the last three years had shown up out of nowhere. It wasn't like he could just exchange phone numbers and call her in the morning. He didn't want to risk losing her again, and there was just so much he wanted to know. His blue eyes studied his surroundings carefully, hoping that they would tell him something about the woman who lived here. The woman he knew but didn't, the woman he had fallen in love with. 

Few photos on the walls, a clock and a chipped vase sitting on the coffee table in front of him. An empty coffee cup sat on the kitchenette counter. Papers stacked in the corner – bills, he guessed. It was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing unexpected, but it also told him nothing about her, nothing about who she was now. 

She came out of her room dressed in a baggy shirt and jeans, "Sorry about that. Do you want something to drink or eat?" 

He said yes more to fill the silence than anything else. 

"What would you like?" She was so polite. "Tea? Coffee? I don't think I have any soda…but I have water if you want something cold to drink."

He got up and followed her into the kitchenette, "Anything sounds fine really. I'll have whatever you're having."

"Tea, then." 

There was a calendar on the counter, the photo showing Mount Fuji in winter. He smiled at her, wanting to ease the awkwardness in some way. "Sounds great." Why was this so hard? It was like she was completely closed off to him. 

It was the colour, really, that caught his eye. He found his attention drawn to the photo, stuck to the fridge with magnets. It was nothing much, nothing that would have normally made him look twice. But he did. It was a photo of a baby, that, in itself was nothing spectacular. Just a baby who was grinning at the camera goofily, his red-gold hair sticking up at weird angles. A baby with bright blue eyes. 

He swore his heart stopped. 

"Do you take sugar and milk?" 

She must have seen the question in his eyes, there was no way she could have avoided it. Her eyes flew to the picture on the fridge, realisation dawning on her face. _Oh, crap._ She hadn't wanted him to find out, not like this anyway. She hadn't been thinking when she offered to bring him home. She hadn't been thinking at all. 

"Yamato, I can explain…"

His cell phone started ringing.

~*~

**A/N:** You all must be thinking I'm pretty evil. Where will I go from here? Who really knows? Will I even update? (Yeah, I know I'd better right? – Some people might come hunt me down or something) Truthfully, I don't even know where this is going. So it'll be a surprise for both you and me. I just have a vague outline in mind. ANYWAY – R & R please…as you see, when you review I actually get stuff out faster, or something like that. Criticisms are always welcome. Thanks again. 

© 2003-08-08

Abi


	5. Chapter Four: If Tomorrow Never Comes

**The Dream that You Chased**

****

**A/N:** Disclaimer is in the first chapter – go there if you want to be legalistic. Now, many, many people have told me I'm evil for leaving things as they are. So I figured I'd better get a head start on this. *^^* Also, Chicha, if there was no angst where would the story be? Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You're the best. 

~*~

_~*If I ever hurt you until you want to cry_

_At that time I'll sing for you until your tears dry up *~_

~*~

**Chapter Four: If Tomorrow Never Comes**

"Hello?" 

He gave Sora a look that told her very firmly that he wasn't about to forget his need for an explanation of some sort. 

She was kicking herself in the meantime. She knew there was no way that she could get out of this. She hadn't expected to see him, hadn't expected to need to make an explanation like this. This wasn't something that could be explained away. He would be hurt that she'd kept his son a secret from him. 

How _was_ she going to explain it? _Oh it's all very simple, Yamato. That boy in the photo is your son. I just didn't think that you needed to know that. Then he would smile, nod and tell her that it was all right, he understood her need to hide his son in an apartment in Tokyo on the worst possible side of town. Simple really. _

She wasn't even sure why she hadn't told him in the first place. Yui was his son after all. She would never admit her fear to him, the fear that he would take her son away from her. That was the one thing she feared the most. Yui was everything to her. She knew that he was just a baby and that he didn't deserve a life like this. She understood that he needed something more stable. But he was _hers_. 

"Yeah, I know. I'll be back soon, I just – uh, I ran into an old friend." A small frown marred his features; obviously the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't at all welcome. "Uh huh. Okay. No, there were no problems." Another pause, then, "Bye." 

It was crunch time.

"Sora, what's going on?" 

There was no anger in his voice, but it was strained, as though he was forcing each word out. He already knew the answer to his question; he just needed her to confirm it. 

She reached out and pulled the photo off the fridge. The magnet clattered to the floor. She stared at the picture for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Nothing's going on, Yamato." She looked him in the eye, "This is your son, Yui." 

Silence. 

"Wh-what?" It was more a reflex than anything, something to fill in the silence. He felt that he needed to say something. "I have a son?" _Real smooth, Ishida. Now he just sounded like an idiot. _

Sora handed him the photo, "No, I was just kidding around when I said that before," she replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

He studied the picture carefully, the boy in the photo smiled goofily, revealing small, white teeth. His auburn hair was tousled, sticking up at crazy angles. That, and the blue eyes gave the boy's parentage away. 

For once, Yamato was at a loss for words. "I-"

He had a son. For the past three years he'd had a son and not known about it. There wasn't anything to describe what he was feeling, really. Anger, because Sora had kept his son from him. Regret, because he'd missed out on something that should have been a part of him. Fear, of what his manager would say, or what the fans would say. Resentment, because Sora had had more time with his son and he had not. 

"Can I see him?"

~*~

He couldn't sleep. The neon lights outside shone through the curtains, casting an eerie glow over his ridiculously over-priced hotel room. It had been an interesting – for lack of a better word – night. He sighed and rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position. He needed to be up early in the morning. 

Sora had point blank refused to let him see Yui – his son, it still seemed a little surreal – that night. She didn't want to disturb him when he was asleep. She had, however, agreed to let him see him the next day. In the afternoon. She had a day job in a café working a ten hour shift, eight to six. But she had a couple of hours between that and her other job. 

He had almost the whole day to himself tomorrow. He was supposed to go an scout out the venue at some stage and the rest of the guys would arrive sometime that night. That meant a rehearsal of some sort – even if it was only the kind that ended up with all of them messing around and just jamming. Their jam sessions more often than not resulted in new music anyway. 

He'd have to think of some excuse to ditch security for a couple of hours – no mean feat – and also he had to start thinking of a plan of attack. His manager would have to be told about Yui. If only so he could field any public relations nightmares that might arise in the future. 

It just seemed way too complicated and a part of him wondered if he was even going to be able to handle it. He was a _father_. A father who had never met his son. A father who had no prior role models to draw on. Everything pointed to him being a failure as a father. He'd probably drop the boy on his head or something. Maybe Sora had been right to keep Yui from him all this time. 

He kicked back the covers. It was too hot and he didn't anticipate himself sleeping anytime soon. He flicked the bedside light on and grabbed at the packet of cigarettes that he kept there. The hotel had a strict no smoking policy; lucky for him his room had a balcony. It wasn't much of a balcony, but it gave him a place to smoke and room to pace approximately three steps at a time. It was useful to say the least.

~*~

She couldn't sleep. There was a part of her that was angry. Angry at Yamato. He was just so typically male. He'd just stepped in and played the big hero. Angry at herself because she hadn't been able to say no to him. She'd brought him home with her. The result? Now he knew he had a son. At least he'd handled it well. She'd expected him to be angry at her for keeping Yui hidden for so long. All he wanted was to see his son. She couldn't deny him that, not even if it meant that he'd take the boy away.

That was her great fear. That she'd lose her baby. 

Yui was everything to her. He was the reason she got out bed in the morning. The reason she kept going. In the darkness of the room she traced the scars on her wrist with a slim finger. She didn't need to see them to know they were there. They would never go away, oh they faded with time, but she didn't think they would vanish completely. They were almost three years old now. 

Just another part of her life that Yamato couldn't find out about. She didn't want his sympathy. She had never wanted his sympathy. Not then and not now.

She would have to face him again tomorrow; she resigned herself to that fact. She wasn't sure if she wanted to see him. A part of her wished that she could have hidden from him forever. But she knew that soon enough they'd have to meet again. She just didn't think that it would be this soon. 

With a sigh, she rolled over. Better to try and get some sleep instead of thinking these depressing thoughts. Tomorrow would come soon enough and she'd deal with it then.

~*~

**A/N:** Comments etcetera are all welcome. I'm not evil really. And I did get a head start on this, but I just slacked off really. Also, forgive the cheesy title, I thought it was funny. I'll get the next one out sooner, I promise. Hope everyone had a very happy new year!! J 

© 2004-01-08

Abi


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